


little bird

by curiouscorvid (prometheanTactician)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Depression, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts, Transgender, mentions of abuse, self-indulgent bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 13:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14213763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prometheanTactician/pseuds/curiouscorvid
Summary: What could make the strictest, most unreasonable, grouchy, immovable asshole of a professor at Gotham University bend his rules?





	little bird

Professor Crane was not known for being lenient. Quite the opposite, he was notorious for being one of the hardest graders and absolutely the strictest about attendance. The doors locked promptly at the exact time the lecture was scheduled to begin and there were no exceptions to who would be let inside after that. Assignments were not graded if passed in even a minute after the scheduled due date unless there was some legal accommodation forcing him to accept it. If a student missed a test, they received a zero. Again, unless the law prevented him from doing so.

Most students dropped the class after the first week, and those who stayed mainly did so because they had no other option.

He did not play favourites. There were no exceptions to the rules. Even students who he enjoyed having in class, few as they were, had to abide by his rules. It was a matter of respect, he said. The due dates were set in advance and the lecture times were the same throughout the semester, and so it wasn’t as if the students were not given a chance to be punctual. So, he had told them, if they still failed to meet the set times, it was a blatant display of disrespect for both himself and their peers. Such a thing could be afforded no exceptions.

Still, that didn’t stop many a student from trying to plead with him over grades, late assignments, or missed tests. He had heard every excuse and had turned away every single one, aside from medical emergencies he was required by law to excuse. So despite his reputation and the fact that most knew not to bother him about such things, he was not at all surprised when there was a knock on his office door. It was within his office hours and so he could not really fault anyone for coming to see him, but dear god he did not want to be bothered with petty excuses at the moment. He bid the visitor come inside and his scowl only grew when he saw them, already feeling impatient with the student. He knew this one.

He knew them because they were an absolute disaster. They almost never attended class, which was a shame because when they did they were attentive and seemed genuinely fascinated by the subject. They had not passed in a single assignment beyond the first one, which was a bigger shame as the contents of that assignment had been insightful and a rare delight to read. They had missed every single test, including the midterm. The semester was almost over and there was literally no way this apparently lazy student could possibly pass his class at this point. Even if he wanted to, and he didn’t, there was nothing he could do for them.

Still, they stepped into his office.

The student was wearing a baggy hoodie that seemed to swallow them whole, perhaps intentionally bought to be at least five sizes too big. Like they wanted to hide in it. There were bags under their eyes that told him right away that whatever they’d been doing to miss his class, it hadn’t been sleeping. Nervousness and dread was etched onto their face and their knuckles were white as they gripped a… sizable stack of papers. Now… what were those for? Despite his irritation, his curiousity was piqued.

“Hello.” He greeted, because they seemed quite keen to just stand there in silence. They jumped just a little, as if he’d surprised them. They blinked like they were only just realizing he was there. They took a deep breath.

“…Hi.” They managed, teeth catching their lip and gnawing for a moment before they managed to continue. “You… Probably don’t know me, but I’m in one of your um… classes-”

“I know.” He cut off that line of thinking, not keen on having his time wasted. They looked genuinely surprised.

“…Oh. Um. You… There’s a lot of students in the school and… considering what little I’ve done this semester I didn’t think you’d have seen my name enough to have remembered it.”

“I remember it _because_ you’ve done so little this semester, Jacquelyn, and if you are here to try to negotiate a better grade then you’re better off saving your breath and leaving right now.” He told them quite bluntly. Their eyes looked past him. They hadn’t actually met his eye since coming in.

“Jack.” They corrected, eyes flitting even further away to avoid any sight of the man they were talking to. “It… It’s Jack.” They swallowed thickly. They seemed to be having mild difficulty breathing. “And I’m… not here to get a better mark. I haven’t earned one. It… would be inappropriate to ask to just be given something when I’ve done nothing to get it for myself.”

Well now. That brought him up short. So few of his students had ever seemed to have that sort of awareness. They just wanted their mark and nothing else mattered. Jonathan sat forward in his chair, lacing his fingers together on his desk.

“Then why are you here?” He was dissecting every twitch, every glance. He knew fear, and this young person was absolutely terrified. Yet they persisted.

“I just um… So. You’ve. You talked about respect, at the beginning of the semester, and- Well. I. I’m not sure how to explain this but I… Feel badly, because I know as a professor you put time into- into the lectures and lesson plans and assignments and grading and tests- And… And then people like me sort of… disregard that effort. That… That’s not what I intended to do, and I just…” They took a steadying breath, closed their eyes for a moment, then held out the huge stack of papers. It was shaking as their hands trembled.

“You don’t have to um- accept these, or even look at them. I’m certainly not expecting you to grade them. I just… wanted you to know that I had done the work. That I hadn’t just… shrugged everything off, I guess? I don’t know. It doesn’t change that I wasted your time. It just… didn’t feel right to leave the impression that I don’t care.” This had to be a joke. The papers were probably all blank. He took them, but there was no hesitation from the student as he called the presumed bluff. Thumbing through the pages it was clear why that was.

Everything was done. Everything. Not even to the bare minimum, every essay and study was typed properly up to the absolute _maximum_ page count. Skimming through a few, they weren’t just gibberish and filler words. This student had… actually done the work. All of it. To standards high above expectations.

“…When did you do these?”

“When they were assigned.” He looked up at that.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I um,” they seemed to shrink, but not because they were lying. The blush rising to their cheeks told him that they knew how odd that was. “I did them when… when they were assigned.”

“You had them done on time.”

“Most of them before the due dates.” The student shrugged, as if trying to play off how strange this was. “It… it’s an interesting subject. I… Got pretty excited about the material and kind of… ran with it.”

“So you would have me believe that you completed every single assignment from this past semester before they were due, in their entirety and above expected quality.” He repeated back to them, shooting them a dubious look over his glasses despite the fact that they weren’t looking at him to see it. The student nodded. “Then why on earth did you not pass them in?” He couldn’t help how exasperated he sounded. How frustrated. This was such a waste of potential! He could see what this student could do and yet they… just weren’t doing it!

No, that wasn’t right. They were doing it, but did not complete the last step that would make any of it matter. The student opened their mouth as if to answer but closed it again after a moment. The silence stretched as they searched for an answer.

“I… couldn’t.” They finally settled on.

“You couldn’t.” He repeated flatly. He sighed heavily, taking off his glasses with one hand and pinching the bridge of his nose with the other. He sighed, leaning back again and gesturing to the chair with their glasses. “Take a seat, Ms.-”

“Mister.” They whispered as they sat down, causing him to pause. Their hands were clutched in their lap so tightly it probably hurt, and their eyes were on their knees. “Mister.” They repeated shakily.

“…Mister.”

“Just- just Jack is fine.” They hurried to say, breath catching as it sped up a little. So much terror for such a small sentence. Things were starting to make sense. When Jonathan spoke again his tone wasn’t nearly as acidic.

“Why couldn’t you pass in your work?” He tried asking in a more gentle tone, knowing he’d get no answers from a panic attack. “You clearly worked very hard, likely did hours upon hours of research and writing… Why would you negate the entire purpose of that work?” Jack pressed his lips together in a thin line.

“…Ironically enough, Professor Crane, I was scared.” He finally admitted, as if tearing off a band-aid.

“Clearly.” Like he wouldn’t know when someone is afraid. “But of what specifically, Jack? A bad grade?”

“…In part, but…” He bit his lip, and Jonathan had the thought that it would start bleeding if he didn’t stop. “I… I know it’s stupid and irrational, so you don’t have to bother telling me it’s a baseless fear, but I- This happens with all my classes, I- I get things done and I go to class, I start fine- But then a bad day will hit and I won’t be able to function and I’ll miss a day. Then the next day comes around and I get too anxious because I missed the last one. I have this… this thought that the instructor will call me out on my absence and I won’t be able to explain- because I’m not physically ill, there’s no reason I should miss class- And then the more classes I miss the more anxious I get and sometimes I can force myself to go but it’s very rare and really draining and- and then the assignments- Yes, I’m scared that I messed it all up and totally misunderstood and that I’ll get a huge email yelling at me about how stupid I am- but mostly I’m scared that if I submit something then I’ll remind the instructor of my existence and it’ll bring my absence to the fore and then they’ll just yell at me in person when I pass things in- And I can’t attend tests because of the same thing and also because I- I look at tests and suddenly my brain is blank- and every instructor knows me by my deadname- my- my birth name so that’s what I have to write on tests and assignments and every time I look at it I feel sick and like I’m going to cry because I remember that every single person in the room is looking at me and sees a woman and I start being hyper-aware of every feminine aspect of myself and I start to panic and I can’t let anyone see me cry, so often even if I can go to class I have to leave early and I can’t- I can’t tell my parents- God, I can’t tell my parents I’ve been missing classes and assignments and I’m so scared I feel sick because I know when my grades come in the mail they’re going to see and- and I don’t- I’m not allowed to get under eighty percent in anything and I’m so far below that and I’m scared they’ll kick me out or kill me and I can’t tell anyone about any of this because I’m- I’m not out- not to most people- But- But every time something was assigned I’d be so determined to make up for everything I’d missed and turn in the best assignment ever but then the due date would come along and I’d just sit there with my stupid pointless research knowing no one but me will ever see it and I don’t even know why I’m doing this anymore when I’m so fucking useless I can’t even function as a normal human being and I’m vomiting all my problems to a professor who likely hates my guts and wasting his time with this stupid fucking idea that I don’t even know why I thought it was a good one- and I can’t even handle being alive anymore and I have no idea what to do!”

He could only stare in something akin to horror as Jack tugged at his own hair, head bowed and shoulders shaking.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry, that was- I shouldn’t have come here-”

“Jack.” He tried finally. They shut up immediately. “I need you to take a deep breath.” He waited until they did so. “Breathe out slowly, repeat.” It would give him time to formulate some sort of response to all that. But… God, what was there to say? “Do you have any friends, Jack? Anyone at the university that you’ve been confiding in? Anyone who knows about all this?” Jack was shaking his head before he was done speaking.

“No.”

“Good.” Now, that made the student look at him.

“Good?”

“I’m going to accept these assignments, Jack. I’m going to grade them as if they were passed in on time, but only on the condition that you do not tell a soul that I’ve done this for you.” He ordered sternly, holding Jack’s gaze in an attempt to drive home how serious he was being. “As far as anyone else can know, you passed every one of these in on time.”

“I- You don’t have to-”

“I’m going to. Such good work should not go to waste.” He placed the papers on his desk, hurriedly grabbing a pen and a notepad and scribbling something down. “My office phone number is on the school website, but if I am not here then this is my personal line. Do not share it with anybody. I am only giving this to you for emergencies. I don’t want you calling me about homework, but if someone at home attempts to harm you or if they kick you out, I want you to call me. Do you understand?” He waited until Jack nodded, taking the paper hesitantly. “Do not worry about being a bother. I will not be angry. If you are in danger or without a place to stay, I want you to call.”

“… Thank you.” He managed to choke out after a moment, eyes on the sticky note in his hand.

“Hopefully between these, the remaining assignments and the final, you can bring up your mark.” He looked at the student, staring down at the phone number in an attempt not to cry. “You aren’t useless. You’re almost definitely mentally ill and receiving none of the help you need.”

“Please don’t tell me to go to counseling-”

“The school counselors? Pah! Hacks, the lot of them." He waved off the very idea. "I would not insult you by referring you to them. But very few come to see me during my office hours, and… Well, though I am not actively practicing, I am a licensed psychiatrist. My door is open to you should you need it.”

“…I… I am extremely grateful for all of this but… why?” He looked up, at a loss. “Why would you do all this for… for me?”

“I cannot possibly imagine the weight of your… particular situation, Jack, but the fear of your guardians, the fear of failure, the fear of potential reprimands likely instilled in you from an abusive or at the very least extremely strict childhood… Those are fears I am familiar with. Leaving you struggling to cope all alone would be irresponsible of me and likely fatal to you.” The grim expression that settled on Jack’s face told him he was not at all wrong, and they both knew it.

“Thank you,” he said yet again, quiet as he stood. “Really, I… There aren’t words for how much this means to me. I won’t forget this, Professor Crane.”

“I look forward to seeing you in class, Jack.” He replied pointedly, almost smiling at the nervous laugh that got out of the student as he left the office. Jonathan let his head fall into his hands. What in the world was he doing? Offering help to one student while he experimented on others? He wasn’t supposed to care about them, as they certainly didn’t care about him.

But, Jack did care. He cared enough to go out of his way to show he hadn’t taken Jonathan’s efforts for granted, and beyond that… The all-encompassing terror that would choke him on his way home from school every day growing up still resonated in his memory. 

He knew what that was like and couldn’t help but to sympathize just a little.

**Author's Note:**

> Counselling centers at post-secondary institutions can be extremely helpful and even vital. This is a work of fiction. Do not let it stop you from seeking help if you need it.


End file.
